My eyes narrowed immediately. “FBI?”
Trigger straightened behind me.
Felicity glanced toward the windows before lowering her voice. “Can we not do this in front of everyone?”
That fear in her voice wasn’t fake.
Not even a little.
I stepped closer automatically, lowering my voice too. “What happened?”
She hesitated.
Then quietly said, “There was a package on my porch.”
Ice slid through my chest.
“When?”
“Ten minutes ago.”
“You touch it?”
“No.”
Thank God.
The thought came fast and dangerous.
Because relief hit me harder than it should have.
Trigger’s expression sharpened immediately. “You think it’s connected?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But Michael told me to leave.”
Michael.
Not AgentJones.
Michael.
Meaning she trusted him.
Meaning this had been going on for a while.
I glanced toward the windows myself now.
Parking lot.
Street.
Vehicles.
Movement.
Habit.
Training.
